


Must be difficult to beg on your knees in that short skirt

by Skythian



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Identity Reveal, Reveal, supergirl - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 17:05:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18877468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skythian/pseuds/Skythian
Summary: Reveal prediction scenario





	Must be difficult to beg on your knees in that short skirt

**Author's Note:**

> Lena finds out about Kara's identity from Lex through Rara. Story takes place after the gang take care of Lex.

“Good work,” Supergirl turns to Lena, hands on hips, her voice stern but wavering.

“You too,” Lena replies with a blank expression, almost absent in the conversation but Kara is too preoccupied with guilt and fear clouding her mind to notice the lack of enthusiasm in her tone at this unlikely victory.

“I wanted to thank you for saving me back there, I, uhh, I appreciate your friendship, it really means the world to me, Lena.”

Supergirl tries to further strain her already furrowed and tense expression in an attempt to hold together the weight of her persona. She draws a deep breath; her heart racing, her complexion changing, her voice faltering, her thoughts brooding as she readies herself for the inevitable. Finally, with an exhale her muscles loosen: broad shoulders fall forward, wrinkles forming an austere face dissipate and tightly clenched fists unfold into open hands. This is _it_ , she convinces herself.

Meanwhile, Lena’s pupils briefly dilate at the comment. She feels a flicker of irritation as anger thrums through her veins— a distorted reaction by a sorrowed soul, a hollow heart and the burning pain nagging in her chest. She craves a drink or two or ten to flush away the prickling and throbbing ache.

“Friendship?” The Luthor scoffs as she locks eyes with Supergirl. She ravishes in the ensued heavy, dreadful, momentary silence sinking over them, for she was angry and this situation did not merit any drop of joy. “We don’t have a friendship,” her sharpened glare pierces past the surface of words and deliberately scrapes the very soul of the holder. “Kara,” she hurls out the name hanging at the tip of her tongue this entire time as if to forfeit it to the world: a tone coated so heavily with vindictive inflection, only to be betrayed by a sudden hoarseness in her voice and the shaking resounding from her intonation.

“Lena,” Kara reaches out, with a gentle, soft whisper, her mouth agape: at a loss for words. _This is not how it was supposed to happen_. Tears begin to puddle at the outskirts of Kara’s eyes. _Everything you touch, you ruin_.

Kara falls in on herself, averting her gaze and fixating on the ground below her. Her lip quivers at the thoughts continuing to rampage in her mind. "I tried to, it was, it was, to protect you. I. Swear. I never meant to hurt you,” she continues to stutter, bumping phrases against one another, “it was never. Never,” she stresses, “my intention. I did not want to break your trust,” Kara mutters in vein, knowing her words no longer hold any substance. She plunges to her knees: a weary sigh echoing defeat. Despite only a small distance separating the pair, the two are galaxies apart; and no words could bridge that gap.

Lena crouches beside the fallen hero. “Why Kara?” Lena almost pleads, misty-eyed. “I trusted you with all my secrets, poured out my soul, believed in you,” she lists with clear hurt glistening in her eyes, crestfallen by the deception. “Yet, at the end of the day, I am still just a Luthor to you,” she repels each word with a sense of nausea, her sentiments masked by a spurious snicker. 

“Of course not, Lena!” Kara implores, choking up, gut-wrenching sobs tear through her chest.

“You breached that trust.” Lena looks away, wiping away emotion and seeing only fog. “We’re over, Supergirl,” she adamantly states while her mind drifts. She swallows down the lump forming in the back of her throat as her consciousness weighs down, consuming her like quicksand. She remains immobile: roots spawning and entangling around her legs, paralyzing any intention to leave. She takes a second. A minute. A moment. And for the first time, Lena Luthor is the one to walk out, never looking back.

**Author's Note:**

> I mostly uploaded this for tumblr since I was able to incorporate & experiment a style w/ gifs (source: aestheticdrugs.tumblr.com/post/184979303215); but figured id post it here too. Not really my headcanon but more of the type of scenario id expect to play out based on previous arguments. Enjoy :)


End file.
